The beginning of hope
by Sandshoes-and-Grandad
Summary: Olivia Bird has been incarcerated with a life sentence for the murders of 17 women. Dr. Reid and Hotch have been sent to figure out the mind of a female serial killer. But not everything is always as it seems. Set around series 1 Reid/oc
1. Bird

No matter how dark the moment, love and hope are always possible

George Chakiris

My blood is pumping, I can vaguely hear the sirens in the background and the footsteps approaching at a fast pace, I can feel the woman pressed with her back pressed against my front trembling and trying not to move her head in fear of cutting herself on the blade I have pressed against her neck. I can hear her almost silent pleads to let her live. But I can still hear that voice at the back of my head as I feel numb. I have to do this. It has to be done. Men round the corner and point guns at me and scream at me to drop my weapon. But this has to be done. I draw my blade back to deliver her to the same fate as the 17 girls before her. But then, a gun shot.

I gasp awake and attempt to shoot up on my bed only to hit my head on the bunk above me, that's when o hear the rustle of the people around me and the guards banging on our cells with a carelessness that shows that they've done this many times before. I close my eyes and catch my breath from the nightmare that's been haunting my dreams for my six years in this place. Though is suppose it's not really a nightmare, I recall as I open my eyes, it's a memory.

I sit at the canteen with my poorly put together and barely cooked breakfast with the same numbness and finality as the last six years. This is how I've gotten through my time here, almost never speaking except for when I have to, never making any friends and never showing any emotion. Even when I've had to fight back against these other women, I've done it expressionless and empty. I like to think my tactics have worked, besides a few instances when I first arrived, people tend to stay out of my way, I would to if a serial killer with a life sentence sent 5 women to the infirmary on her first night. I never kill them though, these women aren't worth my time.

I sit on my bed staring at the blank wall in front of me, most women are allowed some sort of decoration on their wall, but I have no need to, family pictures are unnecessary as most of family are either dead, or just don't care about me anymore. I don't blame them, I think I would be irritated if they still loved me after what happened. I can't play any chess or board games either, I always forget how to play, while most of the news coverage on my killing stated that I was smart, I found it to be untrue, just because I have common sense, doesn't mean I'm a genius. I feel a twang in my shoulder as my scar gives a shot of pain as I remember the bullet that had penetrated it,

'I wasn't fast enough' I think with a scowl. That woman had gotten to live because of a stupid well timed shot to the shoulder. I rub at the spot to try and ease the pain, my court appointed therapist says it still hurts after six years due to guilt. I think it's a reminder of what I didn't get to accomplish, everything could have been ruined by a small fucking bullet. But even though she lives, everything turned out alright.

"Hey, Bird!" A guard outside yelled to get my attention, I turned my head and gave him a questioning stare. "You have some visitors, some guys from the FBI, what the hell did you do bird?" He chuckled before motioning for me to put my hands through the bars so he could handcuff me. I did as instructed with a frown of confusion on my Pale features, I hadn't done anything of importance, so why in God's name were they here? I was led through the building and dragged into a medium sized room with a table with one chair on one side, and two on the other side. I was made to sit down as they handcuffed me to a contraption sitting in front of me on the table. I was given a lecture to behave myself by the guard who had collected me from my cell. Who then left the room, leaving me alone staring at the mirror in front of me, knowing the FBI people were probably watching me. I then played the waiting game.


	2. Interview?

"Let us always meet each other with a smile, for the smile is the beginning of love."

-Mother Theresa

Olivia 'Bird' Leigh sat in the interrogation room of the prison she had been housed at for six years since she was 18, tapping her fingers against the metal table in a melodic fashion. My mind races as I explore every possibility of why the freaking FBI would want to interrogate me six years after I had plead guilty for my crimes, I was turning up a blank as my eyes remained fixed on the one way mirror-glass. I was starting to wish I had brought my jacket with me as I could feel goosebumps start to appear on my arms. Though I couldn't help but wonder if it was from the cold or eyes then snapped to the door as I hear it creak open.

First came in a middle aged man and looked like someone you would except to see when you're about to be interrogated by the 'FBI', he was tall, dark haired and has a stern face that looked like it had never seen joy in its life. As he made his way to the seat in front he of me, and to my right, then entered a man who definitely did not scream 'FBI', he actually reminded me a bit of a teachers assistant, he was somehow taller than the man before him and if I were standing I doubt I would even reach his chin with my 5'3 height. He has light brown hair and a face that somehow managed to be cute and sharp at the same time.

He looked frightened and probably only slightly older than me, I couldn't stop my brow from furrowing as I wondered how the hell he had gotten into the FBI when he looked like he should be in college. He kinda reminded me of a baby deer as he sat down in the metal chair, like he didn't quite know what to do with himself, he avoided my eyes in a way that many people had done to me before, that always reminds me that I'm a prisoner, but when he didn't look at me, all my brain seemed to want him to do was look at me, looking at the both of them I made the decision that one of them was far more interesting than the other.

"Olivia Leigh?" The suited man asked me, I nodded my head slightly, making the decision not to correct him on my preferred name, even I knew that this was probably not a time to fuck around. He pulled out some files from his black, sturdy suitcase and laid them on the desk. "My name's agent Aaron Hotchner, and this is Doctor Spencer Reid from the behavioural analysis unit in Quantico We're here to better understand you, and your crimes, more importantly, how female serial killers differ from male serial killers, you will get nothing in return. If you don't like this arrangement, we will leave and you don't have to waste our time, or yours, do you understand?"

He had his hands folded in front of him as he stared me down in an imposing manner, awaiting my answer as one of my eyebrows quirked up in a bit of surprise and humour, he really didn't like to beat around the bush did he? I tilted my head in consideration as I stared at the two men, while every part of me was screaming at how dangerous this was, how this could jeopardise everything, a part of me wanted to tell these men what they wanted to know. I looked at the man in the sweater vest as he tried to avert his gaze from me in a shy frightened manner. Eh what the hell.

"What do you wanna know?" I asked the man in the suit, I had a feeling that the Doctor wouldn't answer me if I had asked him, he looked like a frightened puppy, as cute as it was I didn't want to make him shit himself. Yet.

"First let us tell you what we know." Again the man in the suit said, I was starting to get slightly irritated with him completely leading the conversation. "Your name is Oliv-"

"No." I spoke up, which actually seemed to surprise the stoic man.

"No?" He asked me in confusion.

"I don't want to hear it from you." I turned and looked at the younger man pointedly which made him look at me with surprise, then At Hotch with what could only be described as horror . "He hasn't said a whole word this whole time, and quite frankly he looks nicer than you do." Hotch looked like he was about to argue or even storm out when the younger man spoke up.

"Hotch it's fine." The anxious wording spilled out of the young doctors mouth as he looked towards me with a bit more confidence than earlier.

"He speaks." I said with a sarcastic air to me. I then raised my hand as best as I could to give him a 'go ahead' motion. I noticed how he didn't look down at the file to read from it as the other agent had, instead maintaining complete eye contact with me as he spoke without pause.

"Your name is Olivia Leigh, although you clearly prefer people refer to you as your middle name, 'Bird', your father 'Richard Leigh' died in a car crash when your were four due to a drunk driver, and while your mother 'Mary Leigh' is still alive, there has not had any official correspondence between you since your incarceration"

The mention of my mother made my jaw tighten slightly in annoyance, I understand that I didn't do a great thing, but my mother couldn't care less about those girls I killed, she cared more about her reputation. As much as I tried not to let my annoyance show, his face flickered to my jaw for a spilt second before locking eyes with me again and continuing.

"you grew up in Scottsdale, Arizona where you resided your entire life before being sent to prison for the murder of 17 women, and were arrested at the age of eighteen while attempting to murder an 18th woman, but you were shot in the shoulder by police before you got the chance to slice her through like the women before her, and the woman lived to testify against you. You never gave any reasoning for the murders except claiming, and I quote, "it had to be done." Did I leave anything out?" He surprised me with the sudden confidence he spoke with, as a small smile lifted at the side of my face.

"You got in the important bits." I tilted my head in appraisal. "I'm impressed Dr. Reid. But I still don't quite understand what you want from me. It sounds like you've got everything there."

"Not everything." Mr. grumpy spoke up again, as he leant forward in an attempt to intimidate me. "We still don't understand why you did it. You had no motive, no prior signs of being a serial killer, and while you weren't exactly a pillar of the community, you showed all outward signs of a normal, happy life. Until your Fingerprints were found at the last murder scene, you perfectly evaded the police. Quite frankly, miss Leigh, you're a complete mystery to the FBI."

The two colleagues stared at me expectingly, like they were waiting for me to spill all my secrets. A stared at them with my signature blank slate look. But I couldn't take it anymore, I started laughing, they stared at me with confusion, I calmed down enough to speak, but I still had a small smirk plastered on my features.

"Despite what you may think agents." I said the word 'agents' with a tiny bit of spite. "I'm not an egotist. A murderer, maybe." I shrugged. "But you treating me like I'm the special little snowflake of the FBI, which I know I'm not by the way, there's a tone of killers who don't fess up to their motive, isn't going to make me spill all my secrets." I leant back on my chair as far as I could, with my handcuffs still restricting my movement.

"That's fine, you're right." The skinny one spoke up, making me turn my gaze to look into his hazel eyes. "However you've already told us more in the last five minutes, that you told the world in the last six years." I tried not to looked panicked and settled for just glaring at the young Doctor in confusion.

"And what do you mean by that, agent?" I slightly bared my teeth and leant forward as I spoke. I was trying my best, but as much as I prides myself on maintaining a calm persona, but I had a bit of a anger management issue. It wasn't my fault people easily got on my freaking nerves.

"Well other than your obvious lack of self esteem." He leant forward as well and it was obvious he was in full confidence mode now, and I would be lying to myself if I said it didn't give me a bit of the tingles. "You have a obvious disregard for authority figures, which can mean a magnitude of things, but putting together the prices of everything I know about your life, I would say that perhaps your father wasn't the nicest dad that you or your mother would like everyone to believe."

I could feel my pulse racing, partly due to the now close proximity he and I were in, and mostly because he was really right. Spot on actually. First it started with my mother, he was verbally abusive then physical, then, when he deemed me old enough, I became another outlet for his rage. I was glaring at him with everything I had when I noticed he was actually looking at me with what I assumed was pity.

"Well Spence." I spat out the nickname I had come up with in my moment of anger. "I hardly think that's any of your fucking business." I practically growled out at him. I stood up quickly and they followed, looking very ready to defend themselves. I rolled my eyes in annoyance.

"We're done here!" I shouted to whoever was listening at the other side of the window, and sure enough, two guards came in and started to escort me out after releasing my handcuffs from the table. As I was being led out a spares one last flare for the two men, and was slightly surprised as I saw the younger of the two look at me in vague concern. That wasn't a look I got anymore.

A few hours later, at free time, one of the guards came up to me to tell me I had a call at one of the phones. I furrowed my brow in confusion as I made my was to the empty booth, I didn't get calls from anyone anymore, even my lawyer stopped calling years ago my blood ran cold for a second as the thought crossed my mind that maybe it was them, before I got a hold of myself, they wouldn't risk calling here. I picked up the phone and held it to my ear for a second before speaking.

"Who is this?" I demanded. 'And you wonder why you don't get calls anymore Olivia' . I thought to myself in annoyance.

"Oh, um yes, hi." My head almost reared back in shock as the nervous, but rememberable voice of Dr. Spencer Reid reached my eardrums. "Is this Olivia?"

"Y-yes this is she." I could've face palmed myself more sounding like a nervous prom date.

"Ok, uh this is Doctor Spencer Reid from the interview today, do you remember?"

I couldn't resist a tiny smirk. "Now Doctor Reid I may have been in here a while but memory isn't going quite yet." I leant against the phone booth to get more comfortable, I was surprised to hear a barely audible chuckle coming from the phone speaker. "Not to sound rude or anything Doctor, but what exactly do you want?"

"Oh right, I um, wanted to apologise for what happened today." Looks like this conversation just wouldn't stop surprising me as my eyebrows lifted in undisguised shock. "I didn't intend to get as carried away as I did, and a friend of mine mentioned to me that, even though you're in prison, that doesn't give me the right to, ahem." He suddenly sounded uncomfortable and lowered his voice. "Be a dick."

I couldn't help the genuine laughter that came spilling out of my mouth at hearing the cuss come out of Dr Reid's mouth, it just sounded so out of place. I could hear him chuckling along with me. I accepted his apology, and we talked for about 15 more minutes. We talked everything from, books to food and even our favourite colours. For those fifteen minutes, I felt like if I closed my eyes, it would feel like I was just talking to a guy on the phone. As I lay in bed that night, waiting for sleep to reach me, I couldn't help but wonder if circumstances were different, would we still have met each other? Would we have been friends? But as the guards called for lights out, any fantasy that would have come to mind got wiped, as I was viciously reminded by the industrial clocking of the lights outside my cell block, I am a prisoner, a murderess, and he's the freaking FBI. He deserves better, I deserve less. The universe doesn't do kind things, that much I know.


End file.
